


Love Me Still

by orphan_account



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Child Loss, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Men Crying, Pain, Post-Divorce, Snark, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23252638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Trevor and Sypha revisit their old home two years after their world fell apart.
Relationships: Trevor Belmont & Sypha Belnades
Kudos: 5





	Love Me Still

**Author's Note:**

> based on the song 'bones' by low roar

“This is a mistake,” he says as he sits down. His chair aches beneath him. It’s old and wooden. The whole bar is old and wooden. If the lights were brighter, maybe mold would be visible. The stench proclaims its presence. 

“It is,” she agrees. 

“But we’re doing it anyways.” 

“Of course we are,” she shakes her head and uses her forefinger and thumb to assuage her growing headache. 

“I wanted to say I love you.” 

“But you didn’t say it the way you wanted to.” 

“No.” 

“So are you saying it now?” She lifts her head and glares into him. He takes a swig of his beer. His beard collects the excess of his over-dramatic showcase. 

“I just know I should have, okay? When I had the chance.”

“Fuck you.” 

“I don’t love you anymore.”

“For fuck’s sake, Trevor, just talk to me normally.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

He’s silent. The bar grows louder and more aggravating around them. The damp air persuades the two to leave quickly after finishing their drinks. Trevor gulps down another pint on his way out of the lofty door. 

“So you stopped shaving  _ and  _ you’re a drunk,” Sypha lists on her fingers, smiling wryly. 

“And you stopped doing magic.”

She whips around and digs a finger into his chest, “Because of what you made me do.” Her eyes downturn. An immediate tear falls to the dirt. Trevor sees the glint of water and pauses. 

“You have no one to blame but yourself.” 

She cries harder and presses her face into his cloak. He puts an arm around her and guides her to stand at his side, then gestures toward the townhomes. They walk until she directs them to the woods. 

“We don’t have to-” 

“That’s why you’re here.” 

“We could go to your hom-”

She stops walking. “I don’t have a home anymore. I have a house. I have myself.” 

Trevor grabs both of her shoulders with his hands and bends down. “I wanted to save her, Sypha. I didn’t know.” 

She clenches her teeth. “I know you didn’t,” she whispers, “but I like to imagine you did.”

“So you have someone to blame besides yourself.” 

“We were partners. You were  _ my _ partner, Trevor. I have a right to blame you. You should be blamed.” 

“I should be. But not for this.” They continue walking down a barely visible dirt path. Fresh bushes and greenery shroud it. “I lost your love the day she died. You didn’t give me a chance.” 

Sypha stray from his arm and bends down to the newly blooming wildflowers. “I haven’t been out here in so long. I forgot how beautiful the world could be. It’s all a little less terrible.” 

“Has your family come to you? Have you contacted them?” 

“I want them to believe I’m still saving the world with you. That’s what I want to believe . . .” she drifts off and blows through a dandelion, “That’s what I want.” 

The trees accompany them to their destination, also overgrown by vines and possessive plants. 

“It’s only been two years.” 

“How did you spend the last?” 

“I don’t remember.” 

“You drank.”

“I’ve been drinking the past two years. She deserved better.”

“But did you give her better?” 

“I gave her death.”

“And I orchestrated it.” 

The windows are gray and dusty. The door is closed. It’s been untouched. 

“You kept the spell over it.” 

“Reversing it would be using magic.” 

“You just didn’t want to forget.” 

“I wouldn’t be able to anyways.” 

Sypha walks forward, pacing herself. Trevor stays behind and stares in awe. The tears he felt nudge at him earlier now surge down his cheeks. His attempts to blink them back fail. His cheeks flush and his body grows hot and he falls onto the cobblestone path. Sypha continues forward, unfazed. 

“I’m sorry,” he spits on the ground. His slobber covers a whole stone and his beard. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” 

“Are you done?” her voice comes from inside. 

Trevor picks himself up and hesitantly walks inside. It’s cold. Filled with the things of a home but barren of the people that make one up. There’s paintings and bookshelves and furniture. It’s quaint. The pair should feel comforted. 

“Her room?”

“Where you left it.” 

Trevor hobbles into the pink and white bedroom he adored building and Sypha adored decorating. Her crib sits with unmade sheets. Her toys are still strewn across the floor like they were on the last day. 

“Oh, my girl,” he falls again, “my precious girl.” 

Sypha weeps softly behind him. 

“But she’s still here,” she says, “and you know it.” 

“She’s not growing is she? She’s not walking or talking or breathing?”   
“But she’s here, Trevor!” She bellows. 

Trevor stands and glares at her, “She’s dead, Sypha! Our daughter is dead and so are we so let’s mourn her death and leave. I never want to see this place again.” 

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

“It’s the same reason you never said you loved me. It’s because you’re too afraid to admit you’re connected to someone. That they matter to you.” 

He grimaces. 

“You know why you told me to do the spell. You know you loved me and her and you just wanted her to live. But she didn’t. So you failed the love of your life and the person you made with her.” 

“I hate you.” 

“I know.” 

“But I didn’t have to.” 

“I’ve loved you for years. I love you still.” 

“And you’ll love me forever?”

“Because I can’t take it back like you can. I live with this every. day.” 

“I’m sorry I can’t. I can’t love you.” 

“Can you hold me?” 

“I can.” 

“Can you cry for her?”

“Mm.”

“Can you just say the truth.” 

Head buried in her neck, he says the words. It’s just a mumble, but it’s there. 

“Nothing in the world could ever stop me loving you.” 


End file.
